


BitchKnits

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Knitting, Pack Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started when Stiles walked in one August day with a polka dotted bag in hand declaring that he needed a safe space to make his dad’s Christmas present</p>
            </blockquote>





	BitchKnits

It all started when Stiles walked in one August day with a polka dotted bag in hand declaring that he needed a safe space to make his dad’s Christmas present. Derek had blinked at Stiles and gone back to reading his book. At the time, he’d been the tiniest bit pleased that someone would consider his home to be a safe place. And okay, the same amount annoyed that his loft wouldn’t be quiet again for as long as Stiles would be around.  
  


However, the second he processed the term ‘safe place’, Derek had looked up from his book to check  _why_ Stiles needed a safe place in the first place. The teenager was sitting crossed legged on the sofa, frowning intently at the magazine in his lap as he held a pair of knitting needles in hand. Derek forgot about his book as he watched Stiles mumble instructions under his breath, get tangled up in the navy blue yarn, curse thoroughly and start all over again.  
  


Stiles and knitting, Derek had thought to himself as he watched the teenager yelp and fall off the couch after  _somehow_ getting his feet tangled in the yarn.  
Talk about a match made in Hell. He never mentioned how deep his reservations went but Derek still grunted and eyed Stiles’ work with disdain. His grandmother used to knit okay? And she was  _excellent_ at it. Nothing like Stiles. But to be fair to the teenager, he was only just starting out. Whereas Grams had more than three decades worth of experience under her belt.  
  


The point however, was that Stiles began to show up to his loft every few days with his knitting bag, magazines, sometimes laptop and a determined attitude. Derek often left him up to his devices, ignoring the bean bags that had been dragged into his loft right by the windows and the knitting patterns that began to show up under his books.  
  


So it wasn’t a surprise when the others began to notice them as well, especially Isaac. Cora and Peter had given the knitting paraphernalia a wide berth but Isaac had looked genuinely interested. Two days later, the boys had been sitting in the squishy bean bags, leaning into Stiles’ laptop and trying to get Isaac to learn how to properly cast on.  
  


Once Isaac had gotten the hang of the basics, it hadn’t taken long for them to fall into a pattern. Derek wouldn’t admit it aloud but he grew to love the few hours of the day where the soothing clickety-click of the needles echoed in the loft. It meant that he wasn’t alone. That someone wanted to be here. And that some people were having trouble following a simple enough pattern.  
  


Every time either of them would curse, Derek would look up from his perch to see what mistake had been made. So far, they both had, between them, dropped stitches, somehow cast on extra houses, cast off a few in the middle, magically knotted a few houses together, messed up the 3K2P design halfway into a 3P2K design. It was domestic and nice, even if Stiles would curse a lot with every mistake. And okay, the face he'd made when he had seen the design mess up had been hilarious enough to jolt a laugh out of Derek.  
  


Stiles had glared at him and told him to “Shut up! It’s harder than it looks! Why don’t  _you_ try it instead of just sitting over there and hiding behind your big book!” Derek declined the offer immediately, going back to his reading.  
  


All together, it took the teenage boys just under a month to get the hang of the basics and begin a serious attempt at scarves. Derek still got a headache when he recalled the discussion they’d had over the color choices (Stiles had picked storm gray and Isaac had opted for a deep maroon yarn).  
  


They had been barely two days into the scarves that Erica had walked into his loft, big wooden knitting needles in hand along with the biggest ball of fuzzy yarn that Derek had ever laid eyes on. The blond had plopped down on the floor between the boys and demanded that they teach her how to knit. That led to two weeks of the most creative cursing that Derek had  _ever_ heard, and this included that time his Great Aunt Maggie had gotten drunk and started to curse out the lawn mower for being racist. It was a long story, don’t ask.  
  


Derek was really impressed at the speed with which Erica not only learned the basics but also at how fast she could knit. While Isaac and Stiles’ needles’ clicking was off-beat and awkward in their beat, Erica’s had a steady click-click-click that reminded Derek of sitting in his old home living room with Grams rocking in her seat and knitting away.   
  


Stiles had been more than a little peeved that Erica had wound up finishing her extremely fuzzy scarf faster than him and Isaac, and even more so when Isaac happily wrapped his maroon scarf around his neck. Derek had stood behind them, watching them as they compared results before asking if they wanted to eat anything in particular for dinner.   
  


After that, Derek grew used to coming home and finding someone sitting and knitting away by the windows or staring confusedly at a magazine or pattern. He might pretend that he minded it but like he said before, Derek liked the thought that they felt at home. It was why he brought home extra snacks and enough groceries for some simple meals that he’d learned over the past few years.  
  


Derek enjoyed the way all the homey sounds would come together on some nights. The sound of the knife chopping up vegetables, a pot bubbling on the stove, voices bickering over whether a cable stitch would look better on gloves or on a scarf and “I don’t care! I’m going to try making the snowflakes pattern! I’m not a wuss like you two! How hard can it be to follow a stupid pattern anyways.”  
  


That didn’t mean that he hadn’t been thrown for a complete loop when Lydia had walked in with Allison Argent in tow, declaring that she was only here as a favor to her best friend because she wanted to learn how to knit a pair of gloves for Scott. The red head had eyed the bean bags, the brightly colored floor cushions before giving Stiles a pointed look.   
  


Derek made a mental note to learn that skill from the girl when Stiles quickly scrambled out of his seat and plopped down on a floor cushion without a word, much less a fight!  
  


Everything after that was a bit like someone hitting the fast forward button. All Derek could remember was a lot of glaring, entirely too much clicking noises and someone’s decision to bring an iPod with speakers for music. And being told to make a lot of hot cocoa and to stock up on mini marshmallows. He remembered making way too much of that drink.  
  


But the Beacon Hills ‘Bitch Knits’ Knitting Group really liked drinking his hot cocoa while fighting their way through their newest projects and Derek was a softy at heart. He sighed, leaning down to check the roast in the oven while he listened to the conversation happening in the background.  
  


"You could use circular needles." Lydia was saying to someone. "It might be easier that way." Allison mumbled something about not being sure and flipping a few pages before asking something about learning crochet. "That’s not a bad idea!" The red head declared.  
  


Isaac’s confused voice caught his attention next, “Isn’t that supposed to be a reindeer?”   
  


There was a growl before Erica ground out, “I  _hate_ animal patterns.” Stiles hissed under his breath that patterns were the devil’s work and the sound of needles clicking together picked up pace for half a minute before pausing for a moment. “Next time, someone talk me  _out_ of this please.”

 

"And listen to you try to convince us that you can do it anyways?" Stiles snorted, taking a loud sip of from his mug. "Someone else Erica, not me."  
  


Erica grumbled under her breath, fabric rustling and shifting as she did so. “How’s the hat going?” She asked.  
  


The mug clunked against the heavy wood of the table. Derek tried not to think about the new stains he would find there. “Pretty good. See? The cable stitch looks pretty good as a border.”  
  


"Can you show me the pattern for it?" Isaac asked. "I’m going to try edging my next scarf with it."  
  


The conversation barely faltered when the loft door slid open. Derek looked up, nodding at Scott and Boyd as they shrugged their jackets off. “We got the cheese and milk.” Scott held the bag up, walking over towards the kitchen area.  
  


"And some extra macaroni." Boyd added in but he got drowned out by the group yelling for the trio to ‘Get over here you three!’ Scott gave him a resigned look before sighing and walking towards the group. Derek shared the same look with Boyd before following.   
  


If there was one thing that Derek hadn’t expected, or enjoyed, about somehow winding up the HQ for Bitch Knits, was being turned into their trial dummy. He winced as Stiles pulled the cap on his head and mumbled, “Crap, I knew I shoulda added an extra inch in.”  
  


Derek exchanged a baleful look with Boyd who had been forced into a bright green sweater that had the most evil looking reindeer stitched on the front. Scott… was being made to model one crocheted shawl after another.   
  


"I never signed up for this." Scott complained to his girlfriend, giving Derek and Boyd pleading looks. "Help me out here guys!"  
  


Lydia flicked the shawls off and attempted to strangle Scott with the longest bright teal scarf Derek had ever seen. “We agreed that if you wanted to spend time with us then you’d have to contribute to the club. And if you’re not going to knit, then this is it.”  
  


"I actually live here." Derek sighed, wincing and then glaring at Stiles when he accidentally tugged on his hair along with the hat. The teenager gave him an apologetic smile before he began to tug a pair of hand warmers on the werewolf’s hands.  
  


Stiles replied this time, all too cheerful for Derek’s liking. “Like that matters! Aw yeah! Perfect!” Derek wriggled his fingers. Comfortable but he didn’t really need hand warmers. Some fingerless gloves might be nice though… He made a mental note to look up some simple patterns and maybe stick them into Stiles’ new knitting bag (which Isaac had knitted for him).  
  


An eyebrow twitched when he sees the multi-colored monstrosity of a scarf that Stiles had finally completed. “I’m not putting that on.” He warnd the teenager. Stiles smirked and waved the scarf around like he was a matador or a cowboy. “I mean it Stiles!”  
  


He never got a say in the matter and wound up wearing a scarf so long which was so long, even after it has been wrapped around his neck thrice, the ends were touching his boots. Sighing, Derek hoped he doesn’t trip on the stupid thing while walking back to the kitchen.  
  


He left Boyd and Scott to the proverbial wolves as they debated adding a crocheted rose to the grey knit cap, Stiles offering to make a matching scarf with a twisting cable stitch while Isaac and Erica argued over what pattern to add to a scarf that would go with the reindeer sweater.  
  


Derek took a moment to turn around and look at the group seated around the coffee table, all of them engaged in several conversations at the same time. Lydia beaned Stiles in the head with a ball of fuzzy rust colored yarn. Isaac was attempting to shoo Allison away with a pattern page while she laughed and kept waving her crochet hooks at him. Erica was rolling her eyes with a huge grin on her face before she gpt hit in the head with a white yarn ball.  
  


Rolling his eyes at the yarn ball fight that suddenly broke out, Derek called out, “No one gets to eat until you’ve cleaned up!”

 

Bitch Knits?

 

More like Brat Knits. 

 

As he heard a few choice comments being made, flying his way along with a few balls of yarn, Derek thought that he wouldn’t have it, have this group, any other way.


End file.
